those quiet, thoughtful eyes had skimmed over her. "I, aha yes, it's
nearly time for my break." Her hands felt clumsy as she gathered up her
order. "I like to go outside, get away from the noise." Struggling to
act normally, she rolled her eyes toward the band and was rewarded with
Ethan's slow grin.
"Do they ever get worse than this?"
"Oh, yeah, these guys are a real step up." She was nearly relaxed again
as she lifted the tray and headed off to serve.
He watched her, while he sipped the beer Steve had pulled for him.
Watched the way her legs moved, the way the foolish and incredibly sexy
bow swayed with her hips. And the way she bent her knees, balancing the
tray, lifting drinks from it onto a table.
He watched, eyes narrowing, as Curtis once again gave her a friendly
pat.
His eyes narrowed further when a stranger in a faded Jim Morrison
T-shirt grabbed her hand, tugging her closer. He saw Grace flash a
smile, give a shake of her head. Ethan was already pushing away from the
bar, not entirely sure what he intended to do, when the man released
her.
When Grace came back to set down her tray, it was Ethan who grabbed her
hand. "Take your break."
"What? I--" To her shock he was pulling her steadily through the room.
"Ethan, I really need to--"
"Take your break," he said again and shoved the door open.
The air outside was clean and fresh, the night warm and breezy. The
minute the door closed behind them, the noise shut down to a muffled
echoing roar and the stink of smoke, sweat, and beer became a memory.
"I don't think you should be working here."
She gaped at him. The statement itself was odd enough, but to hear him
deliver it in a tone that was obviously annoyed was baffling. "Excuse
me?"
"You heard me, Grace." He shoved his hands in his pockets because he
didn't know what to do with them. Left free, they might have grabbed her
again. "It's not right."
"It's not right?" she repeated, at sea.
"You're a mother, for God's sake. What are you doing serving drinks,
wearing that outfit, getting hit on? That guy in there practically had
his face down your blouse."
"Oh, he did not." Torn between amusement and exasperation, she shook her
head. "For heaven's sake, Ethan, he was just being typical. And
harmless."
"Curtis had his hand on your ass."
Amusement was veering toward annoyance. "I know where his hand was, and
if it worried me, I'd have knocked it off."
Ethan took a breath. He'd started this, wisely or not, and he was going
to finish it. "You shouldn't be working half naked in some bar or
knocking anybody's hand off your ass. You should be home with Aubrey."
Her eyes went from mildly irritated to blazing fury. "Oh, is that right,
is that your considered opinion? Well, thank you so much for sharing it
with me. And for your information, if I wasn't working--and I'm damn